Glamorous

Life grants us few opportunities in our short existence to demonstrate true heroic actions. Last night, I was a hero. Millie, my trouble maker, shoved an entire mini muffin into her mouth. She walked around the kitchen with her cheeks full of muffin, excited to fill her chubby belly with chocolate chip goodness. Within seconds I knew she wasn’t going to be able to chew it all. She began trying to spit it out but you could tell it had become too mushy and she couldn’t quite do it.
I slid across the kitchen floor like an all-star baseball player stealing second. I reached her side and without hesitation shoved my finger in her mouth and began pulling out the muffin. She looked up at me with this strange combination of gratitude and disdain. Like “bitch that’s my muffin, but thanks I was kinda having a hard time breathing.”
Just when we thought we were in the clear, one final gag induced full on vomit. Like all good mothers do, I caught that shit in my hand, then threw it down on the empty plastic grocery bag next to me. I whipped off my new shirt, and we embraced in a comforting vomit covered hug. Sean and Evie stared at us equally disgusted and amazed at my ninja skills.
That’s what mothers do, they just handle shit, or in this case, chocolate chip vomit. We catch vomit, we scoop poop out of bath tubs, we scrub yellow breast milk diaper explosion poops out of baby clothes. It’s a glamorous life really.
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